A friend of mine told this story a few months after her father’s death:
My friend was driving with her eight-year-old son riding along. He asked her, “Mom, do you think Grandpa can see us from heaven?”
My friend said, “I think he knows when we think of him. And I think he knows that we miss him.”
My friend stopped the car at a stop sign. A Mylar balloon bumped along the ground. As it crossed in front of their car, the breeze blew the balloon around. The saying on the front? “I love you.”
My friend and her son just looked at one another. No words were needed.